


Orchid Petals

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Unrequited Love, bittersweet endings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-29 04:20:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8475109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "The Hanahaki Disease is an illness caused by unrequited love. The sufferer coughs up flower petals until they are either loved back or die. The infection can be removed with surgery, but the feelings and memories disappear along with the petals."

  Slamming the bathroom door behind him, Hajime tries his best to make it to the toilet, but he's too late. There is a sickening feeling of something sliding up and out of his throat, and Hajime covers his mouth with both hands, not wanting to vomit all over Oikawa’s white tiles. 
  The vomit never comes. 
  When he pulls his hand back and looks, all that sits in his palm is one pale-blue orchid petal, partially stained red with his own blood.





	

Hajime stalls in front of the door to Oikawa’s apartment. A sense of dreads settles over his body, and there is nothing he’d like to more to do than turn around and leave. He picks at his shirt sleeve and checks and re-checks the time on his phone, trying to make excuses not to have to knock.

He could pretend that he forgot, or that he had a surprise call from work, or-

“Iwa-chan, you came!” Oikawa’s voice is happy and bright as he swings open his door to greet Hajime.

_Too late to bail now._

“Of course I did,” Hajime says gruffly and clears his throat until it sounds more normal.; his voice has been so scratchy lately. “You told me to come so I did.”

“I have a surprise for you~” Oikawa sings songs as grips on to Hajime’s arm, leading him into his and his girlfriend’s shared apartment.

Grunting in response, Hajime allows himself to be led into the apartment. A smiling Ayami greets him. She is as beautiful as ever, sleek black hair pulled into a high ponytail and thin figure wrapped in a black dress.

“We’re so glad you could come, Hajime. You should have seen how nervous Tooru was that you wouldn’t show,” she laughs and the sound is musical, like a tinkling bell. “He was practically trembling in front of the door.”

Hajime ignores the way his chest tightens and laughs politely back at her. “Why am I not surprised?”

Oikawa pouts next to them. “My best friend and my girlfriend tease me too much. You two are lucky that I’m not a sensitive soul.”

At this, Hajime lets out a genuine bark of a laugh, “Shittykawa, you are the most sensitive person I know. You can’t pull that with us. We know you.”

He and Ayami share a pointed glance and she starts chuckling once more.

“Hey, hey! That’s not why I called you over here.” Oikawa’s expression transforms from playful to serious in one moment. He and Ayami step closer together, linking hands.

Oikawa’s next words shake Hajime to the core.

“Ayami and I are getting married. We wanted you to be the first one to know.”

Oikawa’s finance’s- _his fiance's_ -words are practically bubbling with warmth. “Yes, Hajime. We would have never met if it wasn’t for you. We can never thank you enough.”

The words seem to echo in his head, and Hajime’s vision tunnels. He feels like he’s looking through a different person’s eyes, or watching a movie. _This can’t be real_. _I must be dreaming. Oikawa would never get married._

He feels so detached. This cannot be real. Come on, Hajime. _Wake up._

A voice breaks through Hajime’s inner turmoil.

“Hajime, will you be my best man?”

Without warning, an excruciating pain shoots through Hajime, beginning in his throat but shooting elsewhere in a split second. Everything burns, but the worst pain is concentrated in Hajime’s throat.

He begins coughing violently, so violently that he doubles over, covering his mouth tightly. He’s never felt pain like this before; it feels like his throat is scorching fire. He doesn’t know if he’s going to hurl or hack out a lung.

“Iwa-chan, are you okay?”

Hajime tries his best to answer, but all he can manage is a few more fiery coughs. He holds up a hand and nods, still gripping his mouth with the other hand.

Without waiting another moment, Hajime darts to the bathroom. Vaguely, he hearts Oikawa’s loud shout and Ayami’s concerned babbling, but all he can really focus on is the burning in his throat.

Slamming the bathroom door behind him, Hajime tries his best to make it to the toilet, but he’s too late. There is a sickening feeling of something sliding up and out of his throat, and Hajime covers his mouth with both hands, not wanting to vomit all over Oikawa’s white tiles.

The vomit never comes.

When he pulls his hand back and looks, all that sits in his palm is one pale blue orchid petal, partially stained red with his own blood.

 

* * *

 

_Do you know what it's like to love so deeply, yet stay unnoticed? To yearn and yearn with all your heart over someone who will never be yours?_

It is the absolute worst feeling in the world and one that Hajime wouldn't wish on his worst enemy.

And as he stares down at the pale blue orchid petal dripping with blood, Hajime knows there is no denying it anymore. Oikawa will never love him back.

Maybe this fact should have been clear to him when Oikawa first asked out that girl in their eighth-grade class. Or maybe in high school, when his best friend had a fan club and took up no issue with flirting shamelessly with the girls as Hajime watched. There were endless opportunities for Hajime to face reality, to let go of that last lingering thread of hope he clung onto so desperately.

But Hajime didn’t listen - couldn’t listen - to reason, and now he is stuck coughing up flower petals in Oikawa’s cramped bathroom.

“Fuck,” Hajime breathes out and it feels like the biggest understatement of his life.

He has been well aware he was in love with Oikawa, but he never would have guessed that it had gotten _this_ bad.

Turning over the delicate orchid petal in his hand, Hajime notes two things. First: that it exactly matches his high school’s colors, the colors he had worn on a volleyball uniform for three years, a light blue and white. Second: the appearance of this beautiful petal probably means Hajime has the Hanahaki disease.

He, like every other person in Japan, is well-aware of the Hanahaki disease. It’s a strange disease that is almost poetic in its cruelty. A heartbroken person, already suffering, begins coughing up blood-stained flower petals. There is a beauty that comes from the person’s intense pain.

But in all honesty, it’s so rare that it had become almost an old wive’s tale in Hajime’s mind. How could this happen to him of all people? Maybe this is something else? Maybe he had left a flower petal in his pocket and pulled it out at the wrong moment? Nevermind how he had gotten an orchid petal on accident. Maybe he was just coughing straight up blood.

Anything, _anything_ , would be better than the Hanahaki disease.

A loud knock on the door breaks up Hajime’s frantic thoughts.

“Are you okay in there?” Oikawa asks, and it’s clear that the man is panicking. It’s evident in the mild hysteria showing through in his voice.

With all urges to cough gone, Hajime feels well enough to open the door. He pockets the orchid petal and stands up.

Oikawa was evidently leaning against the door because he falls into Hajime once the door is opened. Now, Hajime is used to a dull aching in his chest when he’s around Oikawa, been dealing with it for years. But the normal ache is no match for the throbbing pain coursing through Hajime’s body when he comes into close contact with his best friend.

The pain has quadrupled from its usual amount and Hajime can only hope that it is not another side effect of the Hanahaki disease. He doesn’t think he can handle much more.

“Sorry, Oikawa. I’m fine. Just think I’m coming down with the flu.”

“Are you sure? That cough sounded pretty serious.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry Trashykawa. Now let’s get back to your engagement.”

Hajime somehow manages the next two hours with the couple, but coughs out two more orchid petals when he gets home. They’re not blood stained, but they are still concerning.

He makes an appointment with his doctor the next morning.

 

* * *

 

 

The doctor, a stern middle-aged man that has always seemed like a second father to Hajime, explains his condition in some technical terms.

The general gist is as follows:

In order to get the disease, someone has to suffer through unrequited love. The disease can lay dormant for years, decades even, but one day it inevitably surfaces and with it comes painful coughing and a flower growing in a person’s throat. With each cough, a few petals fall off the flower, but no matter how much the person coughs, the flower just keeps growing and growing in their body, making more petals come from the throat as time goes on.

If left untreated, the flower will spread throughout the body, puncturing organs and breaking bones. Leave the flower in a person’s throat for long enough and they will die.

The only way to get rid of a Hanahaki flower is either to change the love from unrequited to requited- to get the person you love to fall in love with you- or to have an expensive surgery.

The surgery cuts out the flower, but also leaves the person with partial amnesia. All memories of the unrequited lover get erased and the pain as well. The sufferer will never even know that they had been in love.

The doctor shows him an x-ray of his chest and throat. A tall, thin flower is rooted in the pit of his stomach and travel a little ways up his throat. It's a young plant, so it hasn't grown very tall yet, but the doctor assures that it will eventually reach all the way to Hajime's mouth.

Hajime just stares in wonder at the scan. How can something so beautiful cause so much damage?

In many ways, an orchid is the perfect flower for Oikawa: tall, thin, more expensive than it should be, and considered one of the most beautiful flowers in the world.

He has a cruel urge to convince Oikawa to have blue orchids at his wedding, just as a type of inside joke that only he will know the answer to. Like a special _fuck you_ , directed only at himself.

He might actually do that. He makes a mental note to bounce the idea off Oikawa later on.

Hajime is so in his thoughts that it takes him a moment to realize the doctor is talking once more.

“Hajime, this is a rapidly-progressing disease. You have very little time before you have to decide on a treatment plan.”

Hajime nods but it must be clear that he is two second away from a mental breakdown, because the doctor claps him once on the shoulder in camaraderie.

“Don’t worry, son. The surgery is an extremely successful procedure.”

“But, my memories?”

“You won’t even know you ever had them. Your personality will stay the same, just the memories of one specific person will be gone.”

 _But what if all my memories are with that one person_ , Hajime wants to ask. _What if I don’t know if it’s even possible to forget him?_  He opens his mouth to ask, but no words come out.

Hajime’s doctor take this as understanding and continues. “Before we decide on anything, though, I’ll have to refer you to a psychologist.”

 

* * *

 

The psychologist’s calming voice rings out through the room.

“Think back on how you fell in love. If you understand, maybe you can overcome the feeling.” She’s trying out a new treatment approach to the Hanahaki disease: getting over it without any surgery.

It all sounds like a bunch of bullshit to Hajime, but he complies anyway, digging deep through his childhood memories for anything relevant.

 

Looking back, he can't say exactly when his feelings for Oikawa first started. If he's being honest with himself, they've probably been there for most of his life. 

He's known Oikawa for eighteen years and been in love with him for nearly that long. Hajime can recount their childhood together in great detail. The two were childhood enemies before they were childhood friends.

Hajime had been a tough third grader, famous in his class for climbing the tallest trees and fearlessly crunching down on cicadas in response double-dog-dares. Oikawa was a sheltered only-child, sensitive and crying over everything. The kids in their class began making fun of him when he scraped his ankle and cried all the way to the nurse’s office.

Hajime had tried to stick up for the young Oikawa, saying things like, _“stop making fun of him_. _"_  and, _“how would you feel if we made fun of you?_   Looking back, he’d still say that was one of his more heroic moments.

Unfortunately, Oikawa had walked back into the room at the wrong time, just as Hajime was saying, _"who cares if he’s a big crybaby?"_

Apparently, Oikawa had only heard the ‘big crybaby’ part of Hajime’s speech, because he held a deeply-rooted grudge against Hajime for over three years. 

Hajime knows this now from years of friendship with the man, a scorned Oikawa should not be messed with. He can do some crazy shit. They would try to one-up each other with concernedly elaborate pranks. The pranks ranged from making fart noises with their hands and saying it was the other kid, to large scale attacks like the time Oikawa had put his mother’s professional-grade crafting glue on Hajime’s seat.

Hajime was so tightly stuck that his cargo shorts molded to the chair. He had to perform an embarrassing waddle with a chair molded to his backside to the nurse’s office so that the fabric could be cut off his body; his mother had to come and drop off an extra pair of shorts and Hajime had gotten in trouble with her when he was back home.

The situation only escalated from there. Hajime can’t recall any more of their pranks, and he seriously thinks that they’ve been purposefully blocked from his memory.

In middle school, a truce had finally been called, white flags in the air. The two found out that they loved playing volleyball together and that was apparently all that was needed to get over a three-year war.

 

Hajime thinks he first admitted he had a crush on his best friend during year-one of high school. The moment sticks out like a beacon in Hajime’s memories. Oikawa bent over in the volleyball court, sweating and telling Oikawa that he just wants to practice a couple more tosses. It had been late at night.

The scene is composed entirely of images: Oikawa’s hair tousled and messy from the exercise, eyes brilliant with the fire and passion that Hajime had come to respect. Long legs seeming even longer with the way Oikawa’s athletic shorts had hiked up, showing inches more thigh than Hajime was used to. The challenging grin that Oikawa had directed at Hajime, just daring him to say no. 

Then the abrupt thump of Hajime’s heart against his ribcage. The painful realization of, _Yeah, okay. I find my best friend incredibly hot_. A couple of _shit’s_ , and  _fuck’s_ , come shortly afterwards.

 

It was years later that Hajime realized that his lust and “like” had turned to _love._

Hajime’s realization came during their tearful goodbye on the train platform a week before college began.

They had decided to attend different universities, hours away from each other. Holding each other in a tight embrace, the two had both pretended like they weren’t crying, even when they could feel each other’s tears on their backs.

Underneath the tears, Hajime could feel something else, a deeply routed ache that seemed to affect every part of his body. A realization that, _I am in love with this man and he will never know_. An idea of _he can never know because I can’t bear to lose him_.

 

Back in the present, Hajime is crying and he doesn’t even know when it started.

“Yes, that’s fine. Let it all out. The pain may help you get over your feelings. Just let it all out.”

Hajime wants to strangle the psychologist. If pain was all Hajime needed to get over his one-sided love, he would have done so years ago. Hajime’s life has been constant pain and pining for years. He feels like he’s wasted two hours of his life for nothing.

The worst part is that Hajime has to pay the woman two hundred dollars when he leaves the office.

 

* * *

  

The day before his scheduled surgery, Hajime finally musters up the courage to tell Oikawa. He brings him to a gym, spikes a few volleyballs, and then lays the news on him quick. Ripping it off like bandaid. Oikawa responds just like Hajime expects him to. 

"I-" Oikawa takes a deep breath, clutching the volleyball tight against his chest. "I'm sorry Hajime, but I don't- can't feel the same way."

Hajime nods, a sad smile on his face. He really wasn't expecting any other answer. He doesn't blame Oikawa, how could he?

No one can control who they love; Hajime is one person who knows this for certain.

But even if he could choose, Hajime doesn't think he would love anyone other than Oikawa. He's just Oikawa, his best friend, his other half, his soulmate, even if he doesn't feel the same about Hajime.

That's the only thing scaring Hajime about the surgery. He could care less about the knife carving into his neck, or the 50/50 chance of survival. Those risks are nothing compared to the one fear that Hajime does have.

What will be left of Hajime when his memories of Oikawa are gone?

Who even is Hajime without Oikawa? Will there be anything left of him when that half of him is lobotomized? The doctor's assurances that Hajime's personality will stay intact didn't make him feel any better.

That's Hajime's greatest fear: that he will be left a husk of a person. Nothing more than a shell that can walk and talk, but with nothing that makes him, _him_. Without Oikawa. Hajime can't say any of this to Oikawa, however. The man looks close enough to crying as is.

His best friend is trembling and clutching so tightly to the volleyball that Hajime is surprised it hasn't popped like a balloon.

Oikawa is scared, which means Hajime cannot be. It's his job to relax Oikawa and unrequited love will never change that. So he pretends everything is okay, just like he has been for the last six months. He punches Oikawa in the shoulder and swipes the volleyball from his hands.

"Shittykawa, what are you waiting for? I thought we came here to play volleyball, not cry over some dumb flowers."

He tosses the volleyball back to Oikawa. His friend is so talented that even while emotionally broken, he still catches it on reflex.

Oikawa sniffles and nods once. He settles into position, shaking out his limbs before tossing the ball in a high arc toward the net. With a smack that resonates through the gymnasium, Hajime spikes the ball into the other side of the court.

Both men smile at each other and for the first time since he coughed up those damn orchid petals, Hajime's smile doesn't feel forced.

What better last night before surgery can Hajime ask for than playing volleyball with Oikawa?

 

* * *

 

The next day comes and goes in a blur. Hajime thinks his mom cries twice and he _knows_ that Oikawa sobs four times.

Both people come with Hajime to the hospital and wish him luck. Hajime is long past any feelings of nervousness or fear, he just resigns himself to his fate. 

Before he knows it, his doctor is wheeling him down the hall to the operating room. Having taken some kind of anesthesia a few minutes ago, he can already feel his vision begin to blur, his mind begins to float away into nothingness. It's a rather nice feeling, and any remaining traces of doubt that Hajime felt are swept away in this moment.

He's making the right choice. And after everything is said and done, Hajime is grateful that he had the chance to love Oikawa at all.  

The last thought that flies through Hajime's mind before he passes out is a memory, and a rather unspecial one: 

 

The two are sitting on Hajime's bed, Hajime trying to focus on his middle-school geometry homework and Oikawa laying on his back, taking up all the room without any apology. He's tossing a volleyball up and down, eyebrows scrunched up in deep thought.

Hajime knows his best friend like the back of his hand, and he can tell that Oikawa is in one of his pensive moods. No need to bother asking what's wrong. The other boy will tell him soon enough. And just like he predicts, Oikawa opens his mouth seconds later. 

"Hey, Iwa-chan?"

Hajime ignores him as he finishes up the last step of this last complicated problem. It had taken Hajime more than ten minutes to get this one and he can't wait to just finish, ready to shut his book and close it for the night. 

Not one to be ignored, Oikawa sits up and scooches closer to Hajime's spot on the bed. He pokes at the textbook once, twice, and three times before Hajime snaps at him. 

"What is it Trashykawa?" 

"We're best friends, right?"

Hajime shoots a confused glance at Oikawa. He'd think the answer to that question would be obvious to the other boy, but he answers anyway. "Yes?" 

"We're always going to be best friends, right?"

Hajime grunts in response and shuts his textbook with one large slam. He angles his body towards Oikawa, finally giving the boy his full attention. What he does not expect is Oikawa to be mere inches away from him, leaning in close. The boy is holding up one chubby pinky in front of Hajime's face. 

"Promise me, Iwa-chan," the boy's voice is serious and when Hajime doesn't immediately respond, he shakes the finger impatiently, moving it closer to Hajime's face. 

Rolling his eyes, Hajime brings a finger up to meet Oikawa's and wraps it around. For the two middle schoolers, this may as well be a formal signed contract.

"I promise."

 


End file.
